have i shared my food choices in Singapore?

apespecials (can be fun too!)

– mango crazy http://www.makansutra.com/eateries.html

– mango pudding (just go to the chendol/dessert stall) http://www.wismaonline.com/stores_sub1.aspx?lvl=4

– kebab (this is the resto not the stall but ok the same kebab) http://www.shirazfnb.com/index.html)

– snacks (i know… but its still apes’ choice) http://www.oldchangkee.com/

– pies/tarts (or however you call it) http://www.fancydelight.com.sg/products.html

– blujazcafe + haji lane

for meals (dining variety)

– chicken rice in the world (the best part is the ginger purée with the dark soya sauce!) http://www.hungrygowhere.com/singapore/wee_nam_kee_hainanese_chicken_rice_restaurant/

– indian

1. Rangoli (my first taste of Indian food after 28 years of living – need i say more?!)


2. Lagnaa (good service, nice food which comes with “spicy scale”)


– italian

for nice food, reasonable fare, casual setting (excuse the sound of the cars and buses though…) http://www.hungrygowhere.com/singapore/donna_carmela/

fine dining http://www.garibaldigroup.com.sg/

more to come…

spielberg effect

if an artist’s work is shared (as he opted to) and results to a deluge spielberg effect, who is it to blame? is it the artist, the mob or the media?or perhaps we should go back and rethink our definitions of art, art appreciation and promotion? is art to be shared, shared-targeted, all or none of the above?

i remember a friend once telling me “all art has been contemporary”. i interpreted it as “individuals having to always struggle at the beginning to be noticed or for their work to be appreciated.” but what about the other side of the coin?

i am often amased at how popular culture is viewed in a sort of contempt – as i myself is guilty of. what is wrong if works are hugely embraced and i don’t? i ask myself…

A Discourse on Myself…

I may not be perfect but I can love. I can care with all my heart.

I can be stubborn sometimes but I know how to obey. Humble myself is not that hard.

I may be a dreamer but I can start from the low. From there I can get the stars I dream for.

I may be a critic but I know how to listen. And accept mistakes and shortcomings.

I may long for freedom but the responsibility I know. Limitations are always there.

I can smile and laugh, find the simple joys of life, but I know how to cry too.

I may be hard and composed outside but I also feel pain, pains that crush my heart.

I can be silent. But I know how to shout, how to sing, sing what’s inside, shout what’s on my mind!

I maybe a singer, a poet, a writer, a day dreamer or a philosopher, but for sure I will always be the simple me.

* * * * * * * circa 1999-2000 * * * * * * *

a north in the compass…

How can we manage to maintain so beautifull memories in our lives forever? As every time we talk about Turin… my blood warms… or something happen… as I immediately get drunk and start to dream, to feel good, to have “saudade”. I am afraid that these memories just became “memories” as ordinary ones… cause these beutifull feelings are still moving me and they are like little deep hermetic secret treasures that only sometimes I open and makes me air to breath in this ordinary life. I hope it will be forever as you say.

Thanks, I always loved you moved by my words… as we would have the same code. Thanks… I also need sometimes to enter to our secret sacred space to feel alive…. Thanks to share this with me.

“Happiness is a time, a place.” I lately succeed, I am ok, but of course every time I remember Turin, like now, I felt that that was a real happiness you know… as a model… a “north” in the compass.

– turtle habibi reminiscin’ 09